Letting Go
by Kedakai
Summary: Reed has trouble coping after a close combat skirmish in the Expanse. Warning: Mild Slash


Title: Letting Go 

Author: Kedakai

Rating: T (PG-13)

Summary: Reed has trouble coping after a close combat skirmish in the Expanse.

Warnings: Mild slash in the form of a male/male kiss. If this bothers you, please **don't** read this story. Swearing.

Beta: Many thanks to GroovyGoddess who beta'd, offered up her opinions, and saved me from becoming neurotic over this piece. Thanks also to MeanOldCow who made suggestions on an earlier version of this.

Spoilers: Anomaly

Disclaimer: This is Paramount's pachyderm. I'm just feeding it some peanuts. I make no money writing this. The story is mine; Star Trek,  
Enterprise and the characters belong to Paramount. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: I wrote this after a troubling conversation with a reservist friend who had just come back from Iraq. The very earliest version of this story had Mayweather in Reed's place and Reed in Hayes', but it quickly mutated into its current form (and believe me, it works far better now). I still gave Mayweather something to do though, because the poor guy doesn't get much screen time even in fanfic.

XOXOX

**Letting Go**

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed sat silently in the back of the shuttlepod with Major Hayes and two other MACOs. For some reason he couldn't remember their names. He tried not to think about the alien blood on his uniform or the quick wary glances that Hoshi Sato kept sending him. He had frightened her. She had always known that he would die for his crewmates, but she hadn't realized until now that he would kill for them, brutally, violently, and without hesitation. He understood her reaction. But it still hurt.

He had been over-faced by a bigger, stronger opponent. After he lost the phase pistol there had been little choice. When chance had given him the knife, he had used it to kill the way he had been trained. But training exercises didn't leave you covered in blood. Nor did they leave you feeling like...like what? He wasn't sure what he was feeling, or if he was feeling anything at all.

Reed glanced down at his hands. They were balled into tight white-knuckled fists. He made a conscious effort to straighten them and laid them flat on his knees to prevent them from shaking. He tried to ignore the sticky smears of blood. It was impossible. Finally he closed his eyes to shut out the sight.

"First time?" Hayes' voice was low, pitched for his ears only. Reed opened his eyes and fixed a glare on the man. He didn't want to talk about this, and certainly not with Hayes. They had been butting heads, albeit in a polite, professional manner, since Hayes and his team had come on board Enterprise. The man was always circling around him like a wolf, searching for some hint of weakness. Reed refused to give it to him.

"No." He said shortly and closed his eyes again, effectively ending the conversation.

XOXOX

Dr. Phlox stood in front of the away team with his scanner. "Lieutenant Reed," he said "you and Major Hayes will need to go through a level two decontamination since you had direct exposure to blood. I believe you gentlemen know the drill? The rest of you can go right into the decontamination chamber."

Reed didn't look up as he made his way over to the shower room adjacent to the decon chamber. Moving mechanically, he stripped off his clothes and boots and placed them in the red plastic biohazard container. He could hear Hayes doing the same.

Reed picked a shower stall at random and turned on the water, adjusting it to run as hot as he could physically bear. He felt strangely cold even after he stepped under the scalding spray. He put his hands on the wall of the stall, bowing his head to watch the blood-tinged water swirl down the drain. His stomach gave a violent lurch at the sight. He clamped his teeth tightly together. No, he told himself silently, I will not do this. Not here. He shivered under the stinging cascade of hot water.

With an effort, he straightened up and reached for the antiseptic soap. He started with his hands, using a stiff bristled brush to remove the dried blood from under his fingernails. Methodically, he scoured his entire body clean of blood and sweat. Then he started over again. After the third time, he simply leaned against the wall and let the hot water pound down on his raw skin.

"Lieutenant?" Hayes' voice startled him out of his daze. He pushed away from the wall.

"What?" He growled.

"I think Dr. Phlox is waiting for us."

"Fine." Reed said as he reached out to shut off the water. He caught the towel that Hayes tossed to him and wrapped it tightly around his waist.

They went into the decontamination chamber. Sato and Mayweather were talking quietly in a corner. Reed didn't dare look at them. He didn't want to see the wariness in their eyes. The two MACOs were sitting propped back-to-back on one of the benches, eyes closed, patiently waiting for the cycle to end. Reed still couldn't remember their names.

With an inaudible sigh, he picked up the gel and started spreading it on his arms and chest. It stung slightly against his tender skin. He ignored the minor pain and continued with his task.

"Get your back, Lieutenant?" Reed looked up and saw Hayes standing next to him, holding up gel covered hands. Reed wished it were Sato or Mayweather making the offer. They were friends, or at least he hoped they still were. He wasn't sure anymore.

Hayes was looking at him expectantly so Reed gave a curt nod and turned his back to the man. Hayes' hands were impersonal. Reed was grateful for that, but he still wished that it were possible to effectively put the gel on his own back.

"You're awfully tense." Hayes said quietly. "You okay?"

Damn the man, Reed thought. Always circling, always looking for the chance to prove himself the better. Well, go to hell Major, I won't give you what you're looking for. "I'm fine." Reed said out loud. "Are you done?" Hayes backed off.

"Yes."

"Turn around then." Reed said flatly as he scooped up some gel with his fingers. He applied it quickly and efficiently to Hayes' back and then retreated to the far corner of the chamber. To his relief Hayes didn't follow, but instead went to join his fellow MACOs.

Several times Reed caught Hayes watching him. He studiously ignored the looks. The bloody bastard was just waiting for him to break. Waiting for him to humiliate himself. Well, he wouldn't give Hayes the satisfaction. Reed was glad when the ordeal finally ended and Phlox let them go.

Reed deliberately lingered. He took his time in putting on his clothes and let the others leave ahead of him. He was more than a little annoyed to find Hayes waiting for him in the corridor outside of sickbay.

"We're going to the mess hall to unwind." Hayes said casually. "Will you join us, Lieutenant?" Reed shook his head in irritation. He wasn't one of them; didn't belong with them.

Hayes regarded him silently for a moment and then said quietly, "Take my advice and find some way to let go. Let go of it before it kills you or someone else." And then he was gone, leaving Reed to stare after him in confusion.

Reed went back to his quarters and immediately stepped into the shower. He told himself that it was to clean away the remnants of the gel, but he knew that it was a lie.

XOXOX

Reed scanned the busy mess hall, looking for a place to sit. He spied Sato and Mayweather sitting at a table in the far corner. Mayweather saw him and started to raise a hand to wave him over, but Sato quickly grabbed Mayweather's arm and whispered something in his ear. Mayweather shook his head and said something back, but it was clear to Reed that Sato didn't want him at their table. He was glad that he was too far away to hear what was being said.

Reed's appetite was gone. He dumped his untouched breakfast into the nearest recycler and left. He went directly to the armory and buried himself in the tedious task of rewiring the port phase cannon. His shift was long over by the time he quit and went back to his quarters.

Two days dragged by. When Reed was on the bridge he kept his eyes on his console, speaking only as necessary; slinking back to the armory at the first opportunity. At least there he could work without feeling like eyes were on him all the time, judging, accusing. He ate sporadically, going to the mess hall during off hours, usually only grabbing something that he could take with him.  
Sleep offered no respite. His infrequent catnaps were fractured by blood-filled nightmares. He began to haunt the gym at night, desperately hoping that pure physical exhaustion would stem the flow of blood in his dreams.

XOXOX

"Lieutenant Reed, pay attention." T'Pol's voice cut through the fog in his brain. He looked up, startled and embarrassed by the reprimand.

"Forgive me Commander. I was, ah...distracted."

"You have been distracted a great deal lately." T'Pol said coolly. "Since you appear unable to keep your mind on the task at hand, I suggest you take the rest of the shift off to regain your focus."

"You're relieving me of duty?" He asked in disbelief.

"That is exactly what I am doing, Lieutenant."

Humiliation warred with anger, and Reed found himself clenching his fists tightly as the sudden desire to hit T'Pol's impassive Vulcan face swept over him.

"With your permission then?" He said through gritted teeth. At T'Pol's nod, he walked quickly to the lift, keeping his eyes on the floor. As soon as the door closed he leaned against the wall. He tried to ignore the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Damn her." He whispered even though he knew it was unfair. After all, he hadn't been paying attention. And he could hardly expect T'Pol to worry about sparing his pride in front of the rest of the bridge crew. In all likelihood it had never even crossed her mind to do so.

It was his own impulse to violent action that rattled him the most. For a split second, he had really wanted to hit her - his superior officer. It frightened him. He got off the lift and went to his quarters. Quickly he changed clothes and left, making his way to the gym. At least there were things in there he could hit without getting court-martialed.

XOXOX

Reed closed in for another attack, landing a quick flurry of heavy blows against the punching bag. It creaked and swung sluggishly against the assault. Sweat stung Reed's eyes and his hands ached under their protective wrappings. He found the physical pain a welcome distraction from his thoughts.

"Malcolm?" Mayweather's voice broke through his concentration. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Travis." Reed said as he turned to face the other man. He was surprised that he hadn't heard Mayweather's approach.

"Yeah, right. Don't lie to me. Something's been bothering you for days. Is it about what happened on the mission?"

"I told you, I'm fine." Reed said forcefully. "Just leave me alone."

"I'm only trying to help..."

"Did I ask for your help, Ensign?" Reed's emphasis on Mayweather's rank was meant to hurt and he watched with dark satisfaction as his friend flinched away from him in shock. Reed resumed his attack on the battered bag. The back of his neck prickled with the weight of Mayweather's stare, but he didn't turn around. Several minutes passed before Mayweather finally left.

Reed heard him go and had to clamp down on a sudden wave of disappointment and regret. "Damn it." He whispered as he slammed his fists into his inanimate opponent. Lost in his confusing emotions, he almost didn't hear the door open again.

"Travis," Reed said. He turned to apologize to the other man, but the words died unspoken. It wasn't Mayweather standing by the door. "Excuse me, Major. I thought you were someone else." He hated the defensive tone that crept into his voice. Hayes looked at him appraisingly for a few seconds before speaking.

"Need a sparring partner?"

Reed wanted to refuse, but knew that doing so would be perceived as a sign of weakness. He gestured wordlessly at the mat and they both took their places. Reed waited for Hayes to make his move, but the man just stood there regarding him as if he were some dangerous, yet puzzling specimen. Irritated by the stare, Reed went on the offensive. Hayes blocked his blows almost casually.

"So Lieutenant, how's it going?" Hayes asked, throwing quick punch of his own.

"Fine." Reed replied as he ducked.

"Really? That's not what I hear." They exchanged a quick round of strikes, flesh smacking on flesh as they blocked each other's movements. They broke apart and circled each other warily.

"I have an idea, Major." Reed said angrily. "Why don't you leave me the hell alone."

"Make me." Hayes said with an insulting smile. Reed responded with a sharp kick that Hayes jumped back to avoid. Hayes landed slightly off balance and Reed moved quickly to press his advantage. It was only when he felt his fist connect solidly with Hayes' face that he realized he was no longer sparring. He was hitting with the intent to cause harm.

"Getting sloppy are we?" Hayes asked from the mat, one hand pressed over his already swelling cheek. Reed stared at the downed man, deeply ashamed by his lack of restraint. He had lost control; had let himself be goaded into anger. Maybe Hoshi was right to be afraid of him after all.

"Forgive me, Major." Reed said stiffly. "There is no excuse for my appalling behavior."

"You usually have better control than that." Hayes said as he stood.

"Let me escort you to sickbay." Reed said. "You can make your report to the captain from there."

"I've taken worse hits in training." Hayes said with a shrug. "But usually from green cadets who didn't know what the hell they were doing." The comment stung, but Reed knew that he deserved it. "And I'm not going to write an incident report. I've got enough paperwork as it is."

"Fine, then." Reed said. "I'll write it up myself." He turned to leave, but Hayes stopped him with a rough hand on his shoulder.

"Damn it, Reed! You just don't get it, do you? I don't want you to write a report."

"Then just what the hell do you want, Major? What is it you want from me?"

"I want you to talk to someone! If not to me, then to someone else. It's clear that what happened down on that planet is getting to you. You need to let it go. You're unfocused and starting to spin out of control. You need to pull yourself together before it starts affecting the security of this ship. You've got people depending on you, and if you keep this up you're going to let them down when they need you most."

Reed felt the blood drain out of his face. Hayes was right. Damn him, he was right. Unable to speak over the lump of shame in his throat, he gave Hayes a curt nod of understanding.

"Good man." Hayes said, clapping his hand against Reed's shoulder. Reed shook his head. Hayes was wrong about that.

XOXOX

Trip Tucker answered his door dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. "Malcolm?" He seemed surprised to see Reed at his door.

"Trip, do you have a minute?" Reed asked. It was an effort to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

"I was just on my way to see T'Pol, but sure, I've got a minute." Tucker sounded tired. Reed looked closely at his friend, taking in the lines of exhaustion on his face, the dark shadows under his eyes. He hesitated. This wasn't right. Tucker was carrying heavy burdens of his own. He shouldn't have to deal with Reed's as well.

"Malcolm?" Tucker prompted.

"Never mind. It's nothing that can't wait." Reed said backing away slightly.

"You sure? Because I've got time."

"Yes. I'm sure. I'll see you in the morning."

"Okay." Tucker replied sounding slightly puzzled.

Reed retreated back to his quarters. He sat on his bunk, lost in black depression. There was no one he could talk to about this. Travis surely wouldn't want anything to do with him now. Hoshi was afraid of him. Trip had his own problems. T'Pol was a Vulcan. She would probably just point out how illogical his feelings were. Captain Archer? No, even worse. Reed had seen Archer's eyes when he had tortured the Ossarian pirate in the airlock. No, Archer had changed too much in these last few months. He wouldn't understand or, worse, maybe he simply wouldn't care.

Suddenly his quarters seemed too small and airless. Reed stood and fished a bottle out of the back of his closet. He tipped it slightly and watched the amber liquid slosh gently against the glass. He knew it was a bad solution. Actually, it was no solution at all, but maybe it would help him sleep tonight. He was working beta shift tomorrow, so a morning hangover would inconvenience no one but himself. He tightened his grip on the bottle, plucked a glass off the shelf above his bed and exited his quarters.

XOXOX

For some reason, Reed wasn't surprised when Hayes came into the darkened lounge. He stifled a weary sigh as the man dropped into the chair next to him. He didn't want Hayes here. His facade was cracking and he didn't think it could withstand much more of Hayes' persistent battering. Ah, what did it matter anyway? His own reactions had already proven him the weaker of the two. He felt far too drained and a little too drunk to even care about it now.

"What do you want Major?" He asked.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing. Not too well, I guess, by the look of things. I thought you said you were going to talk to someone." Reed stared down at his glass and shrugged.

"They won't understand."

"Yes. They have that luxury. At least for the moment."

"I wish I still did." Reed said bitterly.

"I know." Hayes' voice was strangely gentle. Reed took another drink. The alcohol made him feel reckless.

"I lied in the shuttlepod." He confessed. "I've killed before, but not like that. Never like that. Torpedoes, pistols, they're cleaner, less personal. Less...real."

"Yes." Hayes agreed. Reed drained the last of the scotch from his glass and reached for the bottle again. "No." Hayes said, pulling it away from him. "That's not what you need right now."

"What the hell do you know about what I need?" Reed snarled. He desperately wanted the man to back off; desperately needed him to stay. Hayes capped the bottle and set it aside.

"I know you need to let it go." He said mildly.

"I can't." Reed said angrily.

He stood abruptly and stalked over to the window. He stared out at the streaming stars. He hated the Expanse; hated this new mission. It was so far removed from what they were meant to be doing and it was corrupting them all. The Captain, Trip, himself... He wondered just how far they would have to go in the end, and exactly what they would have to sacrifice in order to do it. Reed shivered slightly in the pale starlight. He could hear Hayes moving up behind him.

"What's the problem Reed?" Hayes taunted. "Did you like it too much? Did it feel good to shove a knife into that man's gut?"

"No, damn you!" Reed slammed his hands hard against the cold pane. "It felt like bloody butchery!"

"Good." Hayes said placidly. "The ones that like it are harder to bring back." Startled, Reed turned to look Hayes. There was no derision in the other man's eyes, only quiet compassion. Reed had been steeled to face an enemy, but he couldn't find one in Hayes. He was no longer sure that an enemy had ever been there. He turned away again, focusing his attention back on the stars.

"It made me a murderer." He whispered, unable to explain exactly how this one death had recast all the others he had caused in the past; how seeing blood on his hands had stripped the role of defender from him and left him bereft. He felt as if he had crossed some fine invisible line. He knew things that good people were not supposed to know and there was no going back. "I keep wondering if he had a family, people who depended on him."

"You did what you had to do. Like it or not, we're all soldiers out here. You were defending yourself and the people who were counting on you."

"I didn't want to kill him."

"I know. Would it have been better if he had killed you?" Hayes asked. Reed shook his head mutely. "Then let it go." Hayes said.

"I don't know how." Reed said, suddenly feeling a little scared, his breath catching in his throat, ragged and sharp.

"Yes, you do." Hayes reached out and pulled Reed around to face him.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Reminding you that you're still human. You're not a monster, not a murderer. You're allowed to feel." Hayes placed his hand on the side of Reed's face and then leaned forward and kissed him. The touch was sweet and gentle. It was a benediction, and it felt like forgiveness. A sharp tremor ran through Reed's body.

"I had to..." He said. "I didn't want to kill him."

"I know. He was a sentient being. You're allowed to grieve for him, and for yourself."

"I didn't want..." The final word choked off in a sob. Reed closed his eyes and shoved his fist into his mouth, biting down hard on his fingers to muffle the sound. He felt Hayes' arms close around his shoulders, warm and human.

"Just let it go." Hayes said softly and Reed felt the remnants of his control slip away. Unable to do anything else, he leaned into the other man's embrace and wept.

Reed didn't cry easily, or for long. As soon as he straightened up and pulled away, Hayes walked back to the table. Reed knew that Hayes was giving him space to compose himself and he was grateful for it.

After several long minutes, Reed joined Hayes at the table. He was exhausted and emotionally raw, but he no longer felt like he would shatter into a thousand sharp and dangerous pieces. Reed stared at the tabletop, not quite able to look at Hayes just yet.

Hayes picked up the bottle and poured a drink. He contemplated the amber liquid for a moment before draining the glass dry. He poured another shot and pushed it toward Reed. He stood, clasping Reed's shoulder lightly. "Next time, come with me afterward. Okay?" Reed hoped there would never be a next time, but he nodded in agreement. Hayes was nearly out the door before Reed found his voice.

"Major?" Hayes turned around. "Matthew." Reed amended softly as their eyes met. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Malcolm." Hayes replied before stepping out the door. Reed sat in the silent lounge for a long time watching the cold unforgiving stars of the Expanse pass by.

The End


End file.
